


Such Sweet Sorrow

by lovedsammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coda, Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Gen, as i'm following canon events, not very dean friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 06:04:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21174644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovedsammy/pseuds/lovedsammy
Summary: Coda to 15.03. Sam finds out that Dean caused Cas to leave. Some Sam and Rowena feels. Angst galore. Mostly Sastiel.





	Such Sweet Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> I’m mad at Dean rn, so I wrote a vent fic. This is not very Dean friendly (following canon). The pain that Sam is in and the way that Cas is being treated hurt me a lot, so this fic was born. I wrote this in less than an hour so….. it's not very well done, and probably has mistakes everywhere. I can’t bring myself to care, lol. But if there are SERIOUS mistakes, please let me know so that I can correct them! Thank you! :)

He can still feel the grasp of the blade between his fingers, the plunge into soft flesh, see Rowena’s blood drying on his hands. He can still see her, her face wet with tears, pale from a combination of the blood loss and fear, her entire body trembling. And yet, her expression had never wavered in its softness, her smile warm and fond as she prepared for her final swan song.

_Goodbye, boys._

It’s a memory on repeat in slow motion, even from behind his closed lids when Dean speaks to him.

_“What you did, Rowena….”_

He remembers the way her lithe body had fallen into the mouth of Hell, swallowing her hole and closing behind her like a suction hose. She’d looked beautiful in death, her red hair flowing behind her, dressed in her pink, flowy gown. She’d looked like something out of a fairytale, Sam thinks. It’s an odd association, one that is quite unlike who Rowena was, but it’s how Sam chooses to remember her.

_“You didn’t have a choice.”_

_“I know.”_

He hadn’t. But he wishes that, more than anything, he’d had.

And beneath the loss of her, there are so many more welts festering in his heart.

Sam hurts, and hurts, and hurts.

God, when would it end? Well, maybe asking their almighty creator that question was a pointless task. God had no intention of letting this end, he knew. At least not yet. When were things ever that simple? All of his life, his and Dean’s, he’d existed as a pawn for someone else’s game, had been a toy to break and toss and throw away without a care for the breakage. His and Dean’s lives were a tale of endless torment – sometimes physical, mostly mental. It felt like it would never be over. No matter how much God got sick of them, not even if he was gone. God took a personal enjoyment in their suffering.

_You’re enjoying this._

He sighs, gathers himself, and decides to leave his room for the first time in hours to see what Cas is up to. He needs a distraction. He’s pretty sure that Cas does, too. The pain of losing Jack is still raw and heavy, and it would overwhelm almost everything else if it weren’t followed by even more of it. His mother. Jack. Rowena. Ketch. So many losses in such a short amount of time that Sam craves just a little to be able to turn himself off, to feel nothing at all. But that thought reminds him of his soulless days, and those are days that can stay far in the past. But Cas… Cas has lost just as much as he has, the boy that both of them loved but who was better suited to have Castiel as his father, in the end. Sam had lost that title when he’d agreed to lock the Nephilim up. But honestly, he thinks he’d lost it long before that.

He meets Dean in the library. 

“Hey,” Sam says, clearing his throat. 

Dean glances up and nods at him around his glass of whiskey. “Hey.” 

“Do you happen to know where Cas is?” Sam asks. “I checked his room, but he wasn’t there. Tried knocking on Jack’s too, thinking he might’ve - but…I didn’t really go in.” Sam stops himself. It was still too soon to think about Jack’s room. He fights the wave of nausea at the realization that everything of the boy’s was still there. The photo of Kelly, his clothes, his DVD’s and comic books. The box of cookie crisp tucked under his bed that he didn’t know that Sam had found but chosen not to bring up…. 

“He’s gone.” 

Sam’s world, spiraling in a haze of pain, comes to a screeching halt. “What?”

“Yeah, he left,” Dean says nonchalantly, and automatically, it gives Sam a bad feeling.

“Why? What happened?” 

Dean shrugs. “He didn’t wanna be here, and honestly? I didn’t really want him here, either. Do I need to say anything else?”

Sam’s a bit stunned by Dean’s disregard for their angelic friend. It was true that Dean and Cas had been having their problems lately (and long before that, really), but this new attitude from Dean concerning one of their last remaining allies rubs him the wrong way. 

“Wait. Don’t tell me that you’re seriously still pissed at him?” When Dean says nothing, he huffs.“Really? Our last angel friend - hell, one of our LAST friends, period, and you… what? You chase him off? You can’t really still be blaming him for Mom -”

“You damn right I’m blaming him for Mom, Sam,” Dean snaps. “Jack’s gone. He’s dead. He’s not here to answer for himself or to take responsibility for it. But Cas? He is. He played a part in that too. He didn’t tell us, he didn’t warn us that something was wrong with the kid! Cas hid that from us, just like he always does, and it ended with us paying the price! When something goes wrong with our lives, it’s usually him at the fucking forefront of it all!” 

Sam shakes his head, awed. “Tell me that you didn’t tell him that.” 

Dean snorts. “Does it matter if I did? He left, Sam. End of story. He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself. And we can take care of us.” 

And now Sam’s feeling ire to go along with the grief. 

“I can’t believe you. I know things are bad right now, Dean. But come on. Cas is our friend. He’s family. He’s been with us for the past eleven years and has saved both of our asses so many times. He’s been there, when no one else was. Cas had nothing to do with Mom, and it’s crap that you’re pinning that on him!” 

Dean rounds on him. “Sam, I know you’re upset about Rowena, but don’t. I’m allowed to feel how I do, all right?” 

“So am I,” Sam says defensively. “And I for one don’t blame Cas. You chasing him out of here was a choice you made, not me. I didn’t even -” He rakes a hand down his face, and then reaches into his back pocket for his cell phone. “You know what? Fine. You made Cas leave. I’m calling him back.” 

Dean rolls his eyes. “Do whatever the hell you want. I tell you this, if he does come back, I don’t want him anywhere near me. So make sure to tell him that.” 

“Yeah, that’s not an issue,” Sam growls, and he stalks away to his bedroom. 

He dials Cas’s number. 

It rings several times, but there’s no answer. Sam’s chest clenches in worry. He hopes that Cas is all right. A small part of him also hopes that the angel isn’t angry with him and is ignoring his calls just because of how Dean is acting. When after three attempts there is no response, Sam decides texting might be the next best approach. 

> _Cas, _
> 
> _Hey. You left without even saying goodbye. I didn’t even know you were gone until just a couple of minutes ago. Listen, man, I’m sorry about Dean. The way he’s treating you right now is not fair at all. I made sure to let him know that. But I just wanted to tell you that I don’t blame you. I never have, never will. I hope I didn’t give you that impression. And I feel the need to apologize to you, Cas. I didn’t get a chance to say it before. I know I messed up with Jack, and I’m sorry. I’m going to regret what happened with him for the rest of my life. I loved him, too, and even though I was mad, I never wanted what happened to him to happen. I went to look for you because I know you’re in pain, too, and I hoped we could talk. If not about Jack, then anything. You’re my friend and I want to support you. Please, call me. Text me back. Don’t shut me out. And come home. Please. Dean’s not the only one who gets a say around here._
> 
> _Sam. _

He waits for a long time, and starts to think that Cas has no intention of responding when his phone goes off. He answers before it’s even past the second ring. “Cas?”

“Hello, Sam,” Cas says, and his voice sounds like he’s been crying. Or at least, close to it. Sam can’t blame him. He’s still hoarse himself. “I got your text.”

The simplicity of the statement almost makes Sam laugh, because yeah, he’d hope so. Classic Castiel. It made him even more appreciative of the times when things weren’t as complicated as they were now. “Yeah? Good. That’s good.” 

“How are you feeling?” Cas asks. 

Sam thinks about it, and just decides to be honest. “Awful,” He admits. “I feel like my chest is being crushed with everything that I’m feeling. I can’t really tune it out.” 

“You never really could,” Cas says gently. “You’ve always allowed yourself to feel, and to feel deeply. It’s always a relief to be able to see that side of you still hasn’t changed, even with all that you’ve been through.” 

Sam doesn’t know what to say to that, so he instead goes for the main reason he wanted to talk to Cas in the first place. 

“Cas,” He starts. “Come back. Please. We -_ I need you here. I want you here. _We can just stay and hang in my room and watch Netflix, you don’t even need to see Dean -” 

“Sam, I don’t think I can do that,” Cas says despondently. “I’m sorry.”

Sam was expecting that response, but it stings nonetheless. 

“Please don’t make me lose you too,” Sam says, and God he hates how he chokes on the words, hates how his grief is still so apparent even when he’s trying to mask it. “I’ve already lost too much. Haven’t we both?” 

There’s a despairing sigh from Castiel. “Sam, you’re not losing me. Even if you don’t see me doesn’t mean that you will ever stop being my friend. That doesn’t just stop because of your brother.” 

“Exactly, so…”

“But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to subject myself to more of his animosity,” Cas says resolutely. “Listen to me. I care about you, about both of you, a great deal. And I can still do that without having to be there. You and Dean have each other. You’ll be just fine without me. You’ve done it before.”

_I can’t do this alone. _

_Yes, you can._

_Well, I don’t want to. _

A different time, a different conversation. But Sam holds onto it, because it’s what he’s clinging to most right now. 

There had been a time that he and Dean had been entirely on their own. But that was more than a decade ago and they were different people then. They were just two young men - kids, really - looking for their dad and trying to kill their mother’s murderer. 

“And what if I don’t want to, Cas?” Sam demands. “I’m tired of having every fucking thing decided for me. Who I talk to. Who my friends are. Who I can let live and who I have to kill myself. My entire life, my fate has been decided for me. Why can’t I decide for a change?” 

He pauses, huffing. “Look, Cas. It’s your call, okay? I want you here. I really do. But the question is, what do you want? If you really don’t want to come back, then I’ll just have to accept that.” 

Cas hesitates, mulling it over. “I’ll come back,” He promises. “Just not now. Not yet. I need time.”

“Okay,” Sam nods. He can hear the disappointment in his own voice, and remedies that. “Take all the time you need. You need to do what’s best for you.”

“Sam, I know I left in a hurry, and I should’ve talked to you before I did. I want to assure you that this has nothing to do with you,” The angel says softly. “I’m not angry with you. I was shocked that you would go along with locking up Jack, but I understand that when it comes to you and Dean, sometimes there’s an imbalance. You’re a mediator. That’s a primary part of who you are. You try to resolve problems. You felt that you’d messed up making choices when it comes to Jack, so you let Dean be the driver.” 

Sam doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what he can say. Cas is more perceptive in ways than Sam can really appreciate sometimes, and he’s right. He vocalizes what Sam has not said even to himself.

“It was wrong that you did what you did. But I forgive you, Sam. I’m not harboring any negative thoughts towards you. We’re still friends, whether Dean is involved or not. You’re free to call me, or text me, whenever you wish. I’ll answer.” 

Sam closes his eyes, fighting another wave of emotion. “Yeah, me too. You be safe out there, all right? Take care of yourself? And call me if you need anything?”

“Of course.” 

“See you later, Cas.” 

“Take care, Sam.”

Sam hangs up and feels his heart shatter just a little more. 


End file.
